


we found wonderland, you and i got lost in it

by Anonymous



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alice In Wonderland AU, F/M, It's hard to explain, Mental Anguish, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, References to Depression, Schizophrenia, allusions to canon and modern, but one with hope, i can't explain it, sort of prose, telling a heartbreak story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:41:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23961736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: And this girl had stood on the edge of the world, sand between her fingers and the sun in her eyes, and refused to make a choice. How curious.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5
Collections: Anonymous





	we found wonderland, you and i got lost in it

**Author's Note:**

> this is a piece of prose based on alice in wonderland, but besides including aspects of the story it virtually has no correlation to the actual tale. i know prose isn't really a reylo thing, or really a star wars thing at all, but i love using words to help people find their own ways to tell stories. even if this isn't your thing, i hope you give it a shot and think about what i'm saying.
> 
> this isn't for everyone, but i dearly hope you enjoy the inner workings of this au/analysis with me :) leave me a comment/kudos if you'd like, and if you're going to leave hate instead of constructive criticism please leave.

Today he feels salvation.

It’s a simple feeling, a simple story: he was a man in a mask behind a glass and now the clocks turn backwards, now the universe begins again.  _ Tick-tock,  _ the sound of time, a monster by itself, so that the world might never overtake him. 

Yesterday, he thinks he can recall, was a special type of Hell — the kind with blood covering his arms and a gunshot wound right below his chest, the kind that he would destroy yet not survive. Yesterday, a monster in his mind, no girl at his side, mad static playing over and over again in his head like a pattern. Almost like regrets, almost like a sun bleeding out, almost like the world taking itself back apart and refusing to make amends. Yesterday felt like sunny skies and truth diverging in his mind. Yesterday felt like his own brand of torture, the kind which settled into his bones and carved out a home inside of his chest.  _ Until the very end,  _ he would have demanded yesterday.  _ Until I battle out my insides, until I am the victor, until I no longer have to start again! Until the very end. _

Today he cracks the mirror, today he makes a choice about the man inside. Today he takes in a deep breath and refuses to remain inside of his fear, inside of this cursed birth. Of  _ course  _ he’s mad, of course he wants to tear the world apart and watch it burn because  _ who wouldn’t?  _ He is angry, and he is terrifying, and why would he not be?

There is an Alice, in the looking-glass, of course — the world has little patience for those who are  _ not  _ mad, and she’s a special one, this Alice. With eyes that are searching for a new world, with skin molded into armor. This Alice hid under her bedsheets without lux, this Alice climbed underneath sewer grates and let the universe crawl up her spine to lead him to this moment. He is not insane, he promises. A little bit tired, a little bit utterly exhausted, of course! There are many doors here to open, however, and he can’t wait to watch her make a choice.

Yesterday she didn’t choose him. Mad Hatter, in the mirror, why would she?  _ Take off your mask,  _ he’d been told, and yet it hadn’t made a difference. Perhaps this one is a little too mad, a little too broken.  _ Here lies horror, here lies heartbreak, _ he’d whispered.  _ Make a choice.  _ And this girl had stood on the edge of the world, sand between her fingers and the sun in her eyes, and refused to make a choice.  _ How curious.  _

It was a mundane routine he’d lived by; utterly repetitive, cards in his hand and the future in his eyes. There are many others here, many other stories to tell, many others with the wrong stories, who’d made beautiful mistakes, but that’s not why he’s here. He’s waiting, as he has been.  _ Wait, wait, wait, wait.  _ Silly girl, making him wait. Letting him grow himself in Hell. She does have to take him out, does she know? Silly, mad girl. She made a bad choice. Oh no.  _ Stuck, is she?  _

Today, he shuffles the deck and plays the story, molds the universe a little, tells time to forget and warp a little and do him a favor. Silly Alice, can’t make a choice. He’s been  _ waiting  _ for so long. The monster inside of his mind has been there for so long. He doesn’t remember what it was like when it was gone, when his glove-clad hands were clean and told stories. 

It’s funny, the things people do when they want to save themselves. He wants to save himself, he wants peace, and who can blame him for that?  _ Selfish selfish selfish  _ to tear the world apart for a girl, but he  _ runs the world,  _ who knows? There was a form of torture, a special kind, that he’d trapped between his ribs. To break himself out of his cage he must break himself, but why would he do that when Alice is right over there? Not Alice, what’s her name?  _ Rey,  _ she’s sunshine, everyone else is the same. Nobody is here, nobody is there, nobody is everywhere but there is someone special in his mind. He can’t tear that person out, no matter how hard he tries. 

Wonderland has always been a glorious place, where he exchanged the monster in his head for everything he has ever wanted. But then came along this little piece of the sun. She’s in his  _ head,  _ it hurts. He doesn’t mind the Cheshire Cat, nor the Queen of Hearts. They are all playing a game, after all, and he  _ knows games.  _ He has his cards. He has a table with rules that he plays by. They all know the rules. It’s simple. Usually. Not now. Now’s her. Why is she here? She is tearing his whole world apart. 

Here’s the Hatter’s secret: Hell is not such a terrible place to be! Rivers cry, games are hard, but they go by rules. Here is repetitive, here time repeats in slow motion, here the world might never overtake him.  _ Good monster, nice monster.  _ How does he know if it hurts? It’s all the same, oh. It has always been like this, and today is barely a savior. Today is just new. This sun is new, he isn’t used to looking at it. He’s very afraid of being blinded. The monster is beautiful, as it has always been. It’s a nice Hell, perfectly disorganized like this. And Alice  _ always  _ makes a choice, that’s how it  _ is. Horror or heartbreak.  _ Never has one chosen neither. Never has one decided both are inevitable. He is terrified of this. He is terrified of time beginning again, of the clocks in reverse.  _ Perfect chaos perfect perfect perfect blood perfect everything — _

Ah, see, Alice is  _ mad,  _ but not the right kind. It’s an interesting story, one that bites with teeth.  _ She broke him,  _ can’t she see? Now he will never be the victor. He liked his game, he liked being the victor, he hated starting from scratch, he hated his clean hands. He hates the monster disappearing, the light in his eyes, the girl in his arms, her on his lips. He hates how today is salvation. 

  
  
  
  



End file.
